Pieces, Tales From a Feathered Sailor
by Owls The Sailor
Summary: These are drabbles that will be weird, and more. They will also be cute and some will be disturbing, that's why this is rated M, though most of it's just light drabbles. Warnings will be above the chapters that are more matured. Latest Chapter: Dudley Dursley, Dad Detective.
1. Heartbeat

A/N: Hey-o Peeps, so...this is a bit of a strange piece. It wrote it to be stange. Its kinda demented. I'm sorry if it freaks anyone out. I don't think it will, but I wrote it after watching something that expended my moral code and so... yeah, it was a weird strange experience for the Hogwarts House Challenge, which is a challenge forum that you should consider joining if you are into that kinda thing. I recommend joining Ravenclaw House (because we are in desperate need of peoples).

Also 582-592 words, so in range. Whoop!

Hoots,

Owls

* * *

He could feel it in his throat— _duh-duh duh-duh duh...duh duh-duh_ —fast and fleeting. The world was growing ever darker. There was a twitching feeling in his side, his leg perhaps.

His muddled thoughts were slung about his head as he was thrown across the room. The force of which illuminating like a beacon in the night from the tip of a wand-like tool. He fell to the ground, limp and nearly lifeless, heart patterning and seething for the purchase of a steady beat. Why was he trying so desperately to make it another second in this hellish torture? Was it fear or was it death? Could it be both? Fear rose as bile in his throat, but death forced it out in a pathetic attempt to survive. A harsh and frantic beat to march to. It was too fast, too long, too hard. He couldn't catch up he knew it. He had come to peace with it, lying in his vomit and blood his clothes torn and body bruised.

His beat was now gentle and calm. It terrified him…—duh-dum duh-dum duh-duh duh-duh. He could barely think. It seemed he was frozen in a second of freedom, so long ago, laughing, but then...his friends lost in the woods; and he, alone to stagger drunkenly to them, screaming in the darkness. It was a mistake he would never be able to take back.

He retched again, his mind clearing as more vomit seeped into his clothes. Feeling seemed lost to him, but then a bout of screaming. The clashes of struggles echoed in the stone room, and he could here every agonizing sound. Every scream, psychotic laugh, vomiting, splatter of blood. He could hear it and feel some of it too. Until, submission came and another body thrown against his legs slick with blood and vomit and cold with death.

Footsteps clipped closer accompanied by mumbles of a language he spoke but could no longer understand. He was so scared, and he couldn't move. Every limb was useless and broken, and at one point, he had felt a harsh pain in his chest, a cracked rib or maybe his lungs in frantic pace from running away. Those chasing him, nipping at his heals, taunting him — _d_ _uh-duh duh-duh duhdumdum_ —were too fast. They caught him before he even saw their crooked, silvery had wanted to scream out in pain in warning to the others he saw herded in behind him that they these people were crazy - they would kill them, but his voice had left him so long ago it seemed like days or months or year though it could have only been hours.

The clipping of the blurry black outlines stopped; there was laughter, a strange echoing thing accompanied by the screams of another. He wished for their equally swift death from the crazed beings that caught him too for they weren't human. They were far worse. Thousands of times worse.

Suddenly, after years of the screams continuing, Pain ripped through him once more from the tip of a cold piece of wood jabbing into his rib sending shocks of sharp knives clawing into his skin. It was one final feeling that released the pounding into a frantic ecstasy before...nothing. He was drifting out to the rhythm of his dying heartbeat.

Duh-dum

duh-dum

duh

dum

duh-duh

.

dum

dum

duh

dum

.

.

.

duh

.

.

.

duh

dum.

There was no telling why he was so alone, scared, and unable to cry, but...what a strange world it had been.


	2. The Purple Suit

A/N: This is the second story today! Yus. and hello people of the fandom internet. This is for the Hogwarts House Challenge (Join Ravenclaw!) and I am here to give you the wonderful start to the wonderful pairing of Gilderoy Lockhart and Cornelius Fudge (please leave ship names in reviews if you have them. I would love to know one).

Prompts:

#16 One of your OTP decides to have a makeover that ends in disaster

Purple - Quidditch Pitch

Hoots,

Owls

P.S. Word count was at like 1,100 so not over anything.

* * *

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Fudge pursed his lips at his reflection, trying to convince himself the man, starting to bald and wrinkle with a nearly full head of white hair, was beautiful or handsome or at least looked worthy of his position as Minister of Magic. "No, I can't do this. It's too much."His shoulders bent in defeat. It was obvious he lacked confidence.

He plucked at his purple, jeweled lapel and dragon scale pants. They weren't so bad, and it was fashion after all. Only hip young people wore real fashion. "So I must!" He straightened up and looked himself straight in the eye, fixing his cape. "You are perfection. You-" He searched for the words.

"This is ridiculous! I will never be beautiful!" He collapsed into a heap on the floor, melodramatically. He froze. "Now that is ridiculous."

"Sir, are you ready to check out?" A woman poked her head through the velvet changing room curtain. She seemed shocked to see the Minister of Magic on the floor nearly weeping over not being beautiful, but she probably saw worse at this place, a fashion boutique on the fancier side of Diagon Alley where only the most high-end fashion was sold.

Fudge cleared his throat, and stood. He brushed off his suit, trying and failing to make it look like he fell to the ground. "Yes, I'll wear it out, thank you." The woman smiled, a tight-lipped fake smile, and left. The curtain swung back in her absence.

"She definitely heard all of that," he said placing a bright purple top-hat on his fair white hair. He sighed holding a walking stick in his hand. He took one last look in the full-length mirror and said: "Now off to see the Muggle Prime Minister." He flipped his bedazzled cap back and apparated in a whoosh of purple smoke, the proper payment for his makeover appointment left on a little table in the corner; and a pile of tweed clothes, on the floor.

 **OoOoO**

The Muggle Prime Minister sat at a long table minding their own Muggle business. There were papers scattered everywhere and news being feed into their ear about this and that and tea. Very important thing, tea. It was right about two, the perfect time for a good tea, when the doors opened and in walked a man in a bright purple suit. The lapels of his coat with adorned with so many jewels that the Muggle Prime Minister was nearly blinded by them.

"Security-" The man held up what look like a twig at him. "Is that a weapon?" The minster eyed the device searching for his revolver under his desk.

"Yes and no," He slipped it into the top of his walking stick finishing the staff off. "It's called a wand. Wizards, like me, use them to cast spells and such." He let that sink in while the rest of his party entered the room. "This is Senior Undersecretary, Magellan O'Hare," the pointed to an older man who stared through the window trying to catch birds. "This is Gemini Greenwald, the Muggle Representative in the Ministry," a woman who looked much younger and more sensible in a gray pencil skirt and blazer waved at the Minister before conjuring a seat. "And I'm Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. Today, I will discuss with you the magical world." A young man pulled chaired for the Undersecretary and the minster from the same trick as the Muggle Representative. "We mean no harm and won't push you. However, our cooperation is imperative to both Muggle and Wizard communities' safety."

"Why are you wearing a purple suit?" The Muggle Prime Minister asked.

"Oh this, it's for a special occasion." Fudge saw the same look on the Prime Minister's face as the woman who had come into his changing room at the boutique, so he explained. "After this I have a dinner with Gilderoy Lockhart-he's a big celebrity in the Wizarding Community. A writer- and he recommended a boutique that gave me a makeover per his request. This is the result. Rather nice fellow, but now business." He removed his cape revealing painted nails.

The Muggle Representative gave the Prime Minister and exasperated smile that showed she has tried to convince the powerful man not to wear the purple suit to the important meeting, but it was all to no use.

 **OoOoO**

A few hours later, the Minister of Magic tapped his foot on the intricately carved marble floors at the bar of a new high-end Wizard restaurant called Poppy. He was waiting for Lockhart to show up and frustrated with the Muggle Prime Minister for being less than understanding at the meeting. It was not a very good day and there was no doubt that the press would be all over him tomorrow.

"Oh dear." A man's feet stopped in front of him. They were in shiny white shoes accented with gold leather. "A gin and tonic,please."

Fudge looked up. "Gilderoy? I thought you had stood me up," he said glumly, but still confused.

"Oh no, I just got held up at my book signing, you know, thousands of adoring fans." The bartender handed him his drink. "I would not miss this, not for the world. Oh the stories you must have to tell. Why are you so upset?" He leaned against the bar, watching Fudge intently.

"Well," he paused to make sure the man was still listening. "You see, I had a meeting with the new Muggle Prime Minister this afternoon."

"How exciting?! Did you reveal magic to all of Muggle England? Did you meet the queen, I hear she is revered by every Muggle. They worship her like a god." Gilderoy blue eyes sparkled with the excitement of a new story.

"Oh no, nothing as grand as that. I'm afraid the queen already knows about Magic. I just informed the Muggle Minster of magic so we could coexist, but I don't think he approved of me very much."

"No, that's impossible! Especially after you got this suit," Gilderoy motioned to the purple get-up. Bazzled cape, glow-in-the dark oxfords, and sleek dragon scale pants. "Its amazing. I don't think I was ever able to touch the dragon scales."

Fudge puffed out his chest. "Well, I am Minister of Magic."

"Indeed you are. Now, let's eat! You must tell me everything. Who knows, maybe you'll even end up in one of my books!" He laughed and linked arms with Fudge, sipping on his gin and tonic while Fudge nursed his scotch.


	3. Born

**A/N:** Hey-o, Owls here, so the Daily Prophet (for the Quidditch competition I'm in. There is probably a link on my profile) came out and revealed that we can submit a 500 word poem for twenty extra points. They gave some prompts fire and relationships and I wrote about a relationship with fire... The Word count is exactly 493 which is less than 500 so yeah!

Okay this little poem is about a phoenix, any phoenix really. It doesn't matter. It's also free verse and maybe just a little concrete like a little (just a tiny bit) which if you don't know is a poem that your teacher made you make when you were like six and is shaped. My is a little shaped just a little...yeah I'm creative. Let's continue then!

Hoots,

Owls

 **Update!** Didn't win :(, but oh well better luck next time. Anyways this was reposted here in my drabbles/weird stuff story.

* * *

I let time pass me by.

Slowly, I watched the clock.

The ticking was a harsh sound.

It sounded a careless beating.

The beating of a heart,

Beating of hearts.

Your own. Mine.

Hearts, still. Beat.

Mine is small.

Yours is open

I am shut:

My cage.

Trapped

Like a bird.

For I am…

Free?

* * *

Being

Bursting,

Breaking!

I leave my prison.

My wings aflame with gold.

My heart is beating fast again.

The chains have broken. I am saved…

By whom? Who would love such as me?

I am a flickering in the night. Nothing.

No fear or light or love. Nothing, just.

Why then? Why am I saved

From the flames of void.

From the lost hope.

From the fire

Colder than ice.

You saved me,

A warmth.

Was it flame or man?

Who broke my chain… ?

The clock ticks.

My times draws

Closer, closer,

tick-tock,

tick.

* * *

Still,

Yet, Here!

Now, the present.

I am again born. From what?

Fire? My old, dear friend.

I was happy for once in life.

As death claimed me.

Flame! I curse you!

Now, now, my time.

Now, you listen.

Ticking, Ticking.

Clock, fire.

Home.

* * *

Why?

Blaze, why?

Your infinity is in short supply.

Don't waste yourself on me _._

 _I_ seek freedom, not your chains.

You, my maker, give me no comfort.

Your heart of flame burns.

Don't bring me back,

I won't rise again.

Don't come back.

The clock…

Ticks

* * *

What is my purpose?!

I have seen the void, dear embers

I have seen endlessness that makes us nothing.

I am but a useless soul amongst useless souls…

Stop bringing me back, spark. Stop bringing me back to this.

This world I see before me is sad. Full of everything: magic, emotions: love.

I- I'm jealous of this world. I want to feel, even the gentlest brush of tears.

I can't feel, but through this world, I can glimpse it.

And here, a cloud of sadness. Fogging, derailing.

Inferno, I saw it, yes, I did. It's terrible.

Is this why you brought me?

To help with the pain?

I was created,

For this: to help.

Tick-tock.

I will…

Help.

* * *

I was born

Of tendrils of flame.

My resolve is new and heart golden.

In your sparks my wings returned as well.

Sea of Fire! Dear friend and creator, I thank you.

In this world so full to the brim, I have found my purpose.

W ith your grace, I will try to help many lives of many people and creatures .

I will serve new masters, and be loyal and trusting to each.

I am your catalyst for good. I will help and give and love.

Like the sun I will be reborn again and again!

I will live with your embrace and love.

Through me into a dying world,

Your love will spread.

I will be a light,

like you.

I will be:

Your

Phoenix.


	4. Sisters

A/N: hey-o! Here is my submission for the Round Two Bonus thingy for the QFLC. It was to do a previous rounds prompt and I did Seeker for Season 1 Round 1 the prompt was enemies. The word count is 497; three under the limit. So yeah, enjoy.

Hoots,

Owls

 **Update!** Again didn't win anything, but it did start my thoughts for my other story Avada Kedavra (you should read it) which in turn start thoughts for The Fear Trilogy (coming soon!)

* * *

People loved. That was something Petunia didn't understand fully.

People loved other people. She learned that through romance novels.

People loved their families—Petunia didn't agree.

Lily, her adorable little sister, was the most annoying person Petunia could think of! The little thing was so odd the older girl barely called her a human being. Lily was a witch, but that wasn't the only reason Petunia hated Lily, though. No, she hated Lily for being perfect.

Lily had perfect hair, perfect eyes, perfect grades, perfect behavior, and perfect physique. Their parents thought that Lily could do no wrong, and while she was off at her magical school, Petunia had to deal with their constant appraisal of her.

They always compared Petunia to Lily saying things like: "Petunia, your grades are slipping. Lily is making great grades!" "Oh look, Lily has a boyfriend. You haven't had a date in a while." The constant comparison of the perfect girl to the ugly one (as Petunia always thought of it) made her want to throw up... And she did.

The anorexia started around the time Petunia was finishing school and had met Vernon, her husband. When her body became stick thin, she didn't think she was anymore beautiful, nor did she feel it was good for her. She did feel she needed it for being imperfect.

It was hard though, but she continued. Her weight grew dangerously close to deadly. There was disfunction there. She needed help. Help which somehow came, in the form of a child, a son, Dudley.

When the doctor told her she was pregnant, he also informed her that she needed to gain weight or else the baby could kill her. That's why she got her act together. Dudley was born. Vernon got a promotion. They bought a house on Privet Drive, a street of other houses just like it. They were happy.

But soon, her parents found out about the child and informed Petunia that Lily also had a son, Harry. "A much better name," they had told her. "They're house is very big too, much bigger then your little house." She read that letter every day for months, wondering what she had come to.

Petunia cut her fingers trying to rip the paper of the letter, finnally. She hated that her sister had to be perfect. She hated that even when she was happy, Lily could destroy it.

Lily had brought her to her lowest point, leaving Petunia clawing up a metaphorical ladder all her life. But she was done. She hated Lily and that was final. She didn't want anything to do with Lily or her family.

The woman scribbled out an angry letter to her parents to tell them to stop sending her news of her sister. she marched to the door to send it off, but when she opened it. She saw a strange sight. A child in a basket on her doorstep. Petunia never could have hated her sister more.


	5. Let It Go

A/N: Second story today! Yeah! I'm pretty awesome. Everyone can sing my praises later, but now let's introduce this baby.

It's for the OTP challenge meaning I have a weird couple, Fred W. ii and Vincent Crabbe, and strange thing for them to do, one of your OTP has a life threatening accident, and then, I weaved it into this 1, 400 and something word piece. Hope Y'all enjoy.

Hoots,

Owls.

Also a list of Other Prompts.

[word] charms - Quidditch Pitch

[Plot] Write about an ambush -Camp Hogwarts

OTP Challenge

(Dialogue) "You putting the kettle on?"

(Song) Let it go- Demi Lovato

(Item) Sneakers.

(Quote) Be yourself; everyone else is already taken- Oscar Wilde.

(Word) Tattle tale.

* * *

"Be Yourself Everyone Else is Taken," -Oscar Wilde

The house of George Weasley was immaculately filled with every kind of wizarding contraption he had ever made. Pranks, muggle things, everything, and Fred loved it. Ever since he was little, Fred had experimented with the pranks in his father's shop and the machines lying around the house. At first, his mother didn't quite appreciate his knack, but his father had convinced her that he was very smart and curious and what harm could he do… a bit actually, but no one knew about any of it. Until, the days of Roxanne Weasley, the menace that stalked the halls with her adorably pudgy baby legs, came around.

As soon as she could speak, she was a tattle tale. Ratting him out on every little thing. "Mummy," the baby whined a few tears coming down her face. "Weddie-" she couldn't quite get his name right with her few teeth- "stole it."

"Stole what, sweetie?" His mother picked up the girl holding her against her aproned hip.

"Daddy funny sneakers. Ta ones he told us not to tell you. They are weally dangurus," she admonished, nodding emphatically to her own words.

"Really?" the older woman said in her 'I'm about to be very angry' tone.

"Yup, I tell the tooth. Weddie doesn't." Roxanne grinned, her nearly toothless mouth adding to her innocent act.

"Yes you do, now, I need to go talk to Freddie. You can stay here a be a good girl, right?" His mother put her in the high-chair and patted her head with an adoring smile on her face.

"Freddie!" His mother called up the stair. "Come down here now!" And that's the way his life went– the fun sucked right out of it, not matter how hard he tried, but one thing kept him going. Hogwarts.

Stepping into its ancient halls, Fred knew that he was going to cause quite a bit of trouble and so did the professors. They all turned their heads to the second Fred Weasley, who had walked the halls of Hogwarts, and they scowled. They knew his aim, and he knew theirs. The game had begun. With pranks coming from every corner and crook and cranny of the school with no stopping it. He had outsmarted the professors faster than any Weasley before, making his father very proud.

However, Hogwarts' freedom didn't last forever. Summers and holidays passed at home under the watchful eye of his too-sweet sister, and he missed Hogwarts more by the minute. But one day, he dreaded those halls more than anything.

"Freddie," Roxanne called after her brother, pushing her cart full of trunks towards him. She had turned eleven nearly a month ago, and already, Fred knew that this year he would have to go above and beyond with his pranks. He would have to be faster, do better, hide his tracks, and for the first time maybe even read a book or two.

"What do you want?" He rounded on the girl. She frowned and stopped rolling forward.

"I just wanted to sit with you, Freddie." Her eyes were confused, and he could see tears deep within them.

"Well sit with your own friends, I don't want you getting me into trouble." He turned on his heel and stalked into his cabin with some of his other cousins.

"Merlin!" Someone cried, upon seeing his body hanging from a tree in the Forbidden Forest. Everything had gone wrong, again. And now, his face was marked with bloodied scars. There was a grin plastered onto his face, still, but his eyes looked dead as his limbs looked limp.

He had decided to do something big. It had taken a lot of planning but he had decided to use his father's sneakers to chase Acromantula into the Slytherin dungeons and using charms to make them fall in love with the snakes, but it had gone terrible wrong.

As he was readying to ambush the nest, he had spotted a giant, stumbling towards him. Fred stood frozen for a moment, never having faced anything like that before, and then he panicked casting spells at the monster before it could catch him. However, it hadn't been trying to attack him at all, and instead, only saw Freddie because of the spells. From there, he was bruised and beaten and hung up on the tree where the Care of Magical Creatures students were now surrounding him. _Stupid Sisters,_ he thought.

He hadn't died, and he didn't know whether or not to be grateful or otherwise. Still, he was a little upset that his plan hadn't worked, and even more upset that his mother sent a howler. The detentions though didn't bother him. They took his mind off everything and he could think about nothing in particular.

"Reporting for duty, Mr. Crabbe," he said with a mini salute to the groundskeeper, who had replaced Flich the previous year.

"Hello again, Mr. Weasley," the big man, grinned at him. "Whatcha in for this time?"

"Oh you know, trying to ambush an Acromantula nest and chase them into the Slytherin dungeons before making them fall in love with them. And then I got beaten up by a giant, but that's not really my fault," Fred rattled on, to the man who he saw almost everyday for this kind of thing.

"I did hear about that. I would think nearly dying would have been enough to change your ways, Weasley, but it appears you still have got some fight. I'm guessing they want me to force it out of you."

Fred grinned, "Probably, but it's never worked, no offense."

"None taken, but do you mind if we get serious for a moment?" His eyes twinkled a little. Fred trusted the man. They had a sort of understanding– these detentions did nothing, they both knew that, and Fred was having just a bit of fun. He was never going to harm anyone.

"Sure." They had never really had a serious talk before.

"You know I have no problem with your pranking when it's harmless, but that wasn't. In no way, I'm sorry Fred, but that isn't you. Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"

"I…" Fred paused. "I guess it's my sister. She never let's me get away with anything, and I need to have somethings I can control ya know."

"Well, maybe she just wants to join you."

"No I tried that, and it was the worst punishment I had ever had before. She just doesn't let me be-"

"She's your sister, Fred. Don't forget that. She just wants you safe and your little stunt there is going to make her more worried." Crabbe interrupted. "Look, Weasley pranks aren't the only way that you can be you. You can break your chain and do whatever you want. You're a smart kid no matter what people say."

Fred stared at ground for a while, his brow furrowed. "Thanks, sir." He said finally, glancing up.

"Freddie!" Roxanne had rushed into the great hall huffing, and had spotted her brother swiftly. She had been searching for him since he had recovered from his accident in the woods.

"Yeah?" He turned to her, probably for the first time in her memory without a grimace on his face.

Roxanne stopped in her tracks watching him closely. "Is that a book?" she pointed to the thing in his hands.

"Oh yeah, its advanced charms. Really interesting."

"Did you bang your head, Freddie, are you feeling okay?" She felt his forehead, hoping that he wasn't going to die. Roxanne would miss her brother even if he wouldn't miss her.

"Of course," Fred finally grimaced, "get your hands off me."

"So… wait, what's happening?" Roxanne cocked her. He probably was ill, she concluded.

"Look, Rox, I'm really sorry I've been so mean to you okay, but I'm honestly fine. I actually like to read and charms is a fascinating subject," Fred told her, meeting her eyes. There was truth in his almost identical pair of orbs.

The entire Great Hall had fallen silent, pausing to hear what they were saying. "Mum is going to be so happy." She hugged him tightly. He stiffened before relaxing and hugging her the doors to the great hall open and a few Slytherins with pink hair marched in.

Roxanne released her brother, smirking. "Well, I have to go," she chuckled scampering away, under the table as he brother shook his head.


	6. Things That Appear Closed

**A/N:** I love this piece so flipping much! It's not even that good, but I love it. I love the format, the characters, the way I used imagery! I'm really proud of myself with this one and I think I'm allowed to be.

Okay now that that is over with. I would like to talk about what's actually in this piece a bit. As you'll see, it's a list of nine things that appear to be closed. I actually got this idea from a prompt not from any challenge I'm in, but Sarah Seckley. I have used her prompts before to help with writers block and have even posted some of my better pieces because of it. I strongly recommend checking her out and subscribing to her daily prompts.

Not this is actually a ship that I didn't actually ship at all before, but for some reason I do now...and I don't know how to feel about that. I'm kinda disturbed by it to be honest, as it Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle and anyone with Tom disturbs me, but I love it...like a lot.

Anyways, prompts!

(Sentence) She knew those sweet lips sprouted nothing but lies.

(Pairing) A dark and a light character

Word Count was at 1,031 (kinda long for nine item list, but whatever!)

Hoots,

Owls

P.S. Enjoy!

* * *

Things That Appear to Be Closed:

1.) The Chamber of Secrets - Locked by a secret entrance in girl's bathroom on first floor, this room should not be touched as it is full of secrets, their secrets. Their very strange secrets, that one would never expect. Those secrets were never meant to be seen or heard or touched or even thought of by anyone except them, and no one wishes to know these secrets– even if they think they do.

Again, this room should not be touched. It is dangerous to even tread near its entrance. So very dangerous that only she enters; and once, she never returned.

2.) His eyes - They don't open, but they always follow those who enter the Chamber, their intensity hidden by lids or by magic or sometimes by shadow.

Sealed shut so she wouldn't know he was there, his dark eyes followed her around the room when she thought she was alone. Her heart was pounding in her throat from fear and from excitement. Except, his eyes weren't closed they were open. They saw her, learned her face, and her body. They knew her very well, so well that one would have thought he had spent an eternity watching her. And suddenly, she saw them staring at her from the gloom. Her cheeks flushed and her heart rate speed and she nearly screamed, but she couldn't.

3.) Her mouth - It couldn't open. Somehow her jaw was locked in place, and her tongue was numb. Her lips were locked together by something that wasn't fear but better– so much better. Effectively, everything she tried to say was muffled, and eventually silenced.

Then, he ran his thumb along her cheek, and she felt it meant so much more than a touch. It made her knees quaked and her skin burn and something deep inside her churn. She looked into his eyes. They were no longer closed but delving into her soul and mind. His attention turned to her mouth, which couldn't open. He ran his thumb across her lips, memorizing everything part of her their chapped surface, before leaning down and kissing her.

4.) Her eyes - They snapped shut as his lips moved against hers. She was disgusted by it. The feeling of dirtiness filled her slowly but ceased abruptly when he pushed her against a slick wall. Everything he felt was rushing through her body. The hate, the fear, the want, the lust– until, she was forced to kiss back. She was forced to lean back into the wall, arching her body towards his. Forced to let go of all of her thoughts and release herself from what she felt about the rest of the world. His ministrations turned to her neck and her mouth was no longer closed, but mewling. She knew those sweet lips sprouted nothing but lies, but what she felt was nothing but the truth.

5.) Their minds - The others wouldn't understand how she felt. Ginny knew this by looking into their eyes, not his dark ones any longer. No one would understand the love she felt for the man that had nearly killed her. No one would understand how he had made her feel, so wanted, so needed, so loved. They didn't know him like she had in their precious moments, those long-gone precious moments. Thinking of it left her lonely, and broken, and cold. His hands were what she wanted, but she only had another's. A boy, one with eyes that never made her feel the same.

6.) Her heart - She let him in the moment he had given her everything. She closed out the rest of the world the moment when she saw his eyes soften when she kissed him. But, she forgot she had her heart when he broke her. She left it on the floor of the Chamber where his blood and her would rest forever. She knew he would one day find it. And she threw away the key to the fragile beating thing in her chest the moment she knew he was gone.

7.) Their eyes - The small innocent things closed as she rocked what she had come to love into slumber. The small babies heartbeat fluttering next to hers. With the gentle hum of the small girl's breathe on her chest and warmth of the boy who had never made her feel the same on her back, she knew she was lucky to have lost everything. But the feeling never reached her long lost heart. She was in a lovely place, a warm place, a happy place, but she still felt lonely. Her heart still too shattered for anyone to claim, if they could even find it. Still this little world she, they, had created left its mark on her soul, her twisted bound soul, making her feel loved and wanted and needed. It was still not him. Nothing would ever replace him.

8.) The case of Ginny Weasley's disappearance - She was never found, and nothing pointed to her whereabouts. She left her husband and three children behind, and no word has been heard of her since that precious day in September when she was last seen at the train station wishing her second son goodbye as he left for Hogwarts. Her husband raised the children as best he could with the help of friends, but never remarried, feeling as though he had finally lost everything.

9.) The Chamber of Secrets - It was destroyed years later when no one dared entered. Still there are rumors that two lovers lay waiting their for a chance to escape. Their souls entwined, and that maybe, the Chamber was still open. She hoped it still was. She sat there watching it, willing it to open. Somehow, it did. She stepped inside, her breath knocked from her, the familiar cold, damp air filling her with memories. Darkness filled her vision, but she no longer cared. He was there. She could see him. She knew him. She loved him and he loved her. That was all that ever mattered, no light, no dark, no pain, no loss, no other, just each other.


	7. July 23

**This is just some bits and bobs at my time at Hogwarts based on the Hogwarts House Challenge Forum. (Go check it out! And Join Ravenclaw)**

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July 23, 2015

You know it's not a normal day when you wake up too early, but most of all you know it's not normal if you wake up early and nothing has gone wrong. That is what happened today.

Typically I wake up an hour before breakfast is served and walk down to the Great Hall with a few of my Ravenclaw friends, but today I was almost four hours early, meaning the sun had yet to rise and I was left alone in the quiet and the dark, two things I dislike very much together (plus, it was cold and I wasn't so put together to cast a warming charm). I had a few choices at this point. A: go back to sleep, a responsible sound decision, that I normally would have made, B: go to the bathroom and make sure nothing was wrong in the common room, or C) go for a run. As I was the Quidditch Captain for the Ravenclaw team, I felt the last choice set a better example. So I quickly changed and started my jog around the school grounds.

But before I could even do that, I stopped by the Great Hall–it's door was suspiciously cracked open. There was muttering from inside, which made me hesitate before entering, but I felt obligated to make sure whoever was inside was okay. I feel obligated to do a great many things for my great school and its students (do I sense a Head Girl's badge anytime soon?)

Inside, I saw a student, a familiar face, sitting in Headmistress Claire's chair on the Professors' dias at the other end of the Great Hall. The face was familiar because of its infamy–the prankster Gally was sitting there cackling madly into the empty hall.

"I will take over this school," she shouted before laughing. I moved to sit under a table, not wanting the madwoman to find me. Then there were footsteps; someone shouted from outside the heavy doors: "Gally!"

I turned my gaze to the door just as Red, the other well known prankster and Gally's usual partner-in-crime, entered–her hair a messy array of red, and her eyes gleaming mischievously as I had seen so many times and learned to fear.

"I will rule this school!" Red said evilly, storming past the table I was hiding under and moving towards Gally in the Headmistress's chair. The two began to laugh maniacally, Gally standing to face her friend. They both drew wands.

With only the flickering light from the hallway and the moon's gleam from the arching windows, they were illuminated in the most fearsome way: their grins contoured gruesomely, their eyes hooded by shadow so only the glints of mischief came through. Red's robes were snapping around her feet. Their voices were echoing in the grand place, giving an even eerier feeling to the scene.

I felt like I should do something, but nothing came to mind. I could only stare in awe as the two faced each other, cackling. Never had I been had I been so stuck to my place than in that moment.

Suddenly the torches flickered on in the hall, and an even more terrifying woman stood at the entrance. She didn't need fancy or ominous lighting to make her look fearsome. Headmistress Claire was easily the second most scary person at Hogwarts (after Deputy Headmistress Xanda who tried to kill students in her little games), especially when she gave her signature glare, which I heard at one point literally turned a student into stone that was before I came to school though.

Anyways, Headmistress Claire walked in and her gaze froze the room, even the wind stopped. Gally and Red looked a little more ridiculous in their rumpled, sleeped-in robes and mussed up hair. Their eyes looked tired as well; they had probably been trying to perfect the act all night.

"Who said you were taking over the school and allowed you to sit in my chair?" The headmistress stalked forward.

Gally and Red eased away from the chair. "We were just keeping it warm for you, Headmistress," Gally offered. Red nodded along until the two were able to run down the aisles and back to their respective common rooms.

I stayed under my table as Headmistress Claire left, muttering about delinquents. She waved her hand and the lights turned off. The door thudded closed behind her and I was left in the dark and the quiet, and it was very cold. I stood finally, and faced the Professors' table, light by the moonlight through the windows the windows. I walked towards it and touched the velvet of Headmistress Claire's chair. "I will rule this school," I said softly.

Then, I ran out and began my jog.


	8. Dudley Dursley, Dad Decetive

_Hello there wonderful, amazing reader!_

 _This is a new thing I wrote, I hope you like it! It's about Dudley Dursley, Dad Detective, as I like to call it. I really hope that you enjoy, because I think its a fun piece. I'm starting to notice that I write a lot of kid fics. And it brings me a lot of joy when I do that (maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something)._

 _Anywho, I hope you enjoy and check out the future work to this weird collection of drabbles that I write occasionally. And if you do like the kid thing, check out my story What If, its about Neville Longbottom being raised by the Longbottoms, its cute (at least I think so). Hoots, Owls_

 _P.S. This was written using the prompt Dudley Dursley from the Quidditch Pitch and so fragile, so beautiful, he was afraid of breaking her. It's 710 words._

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His wife had been the most beautiful thing he had ever seen when she was walking down the aisle towards him. It had been in a church with large stain glass windows, which he only faintly remembered were glowing pink and yellow down on his wife's ethereal form. There were flowers too, and a thousand other things he couldn't remember, but they were there. She, Eleanor Trale-Dursley, was the most beautiful being in all creation that day for a many years to come.

She was the finest form of beauty in his eyes, until the day his daughter Roberta was born. She was so fragile, so beautiful, he was afraid of breaking her. He held her, pink and squirming, with her mother laughing in the background. Eleanor was still so beautiful with her hair plastered to her face with sweat and body laying exhausted on the hospital bed, but Roberta was the glistening beacon of his existence from that day forward. He cared for her like he didn't know someone could care for a little bundle of tears and feces. But, he did.

Then out came Jack, who was the center of his Mum's whole world. A cherry-cheeked rascal, whom they both loved dearly. He was four, now; his sister, a ripe seven and in primary school.

Eleanor was a writer, staying at home most of the day with Jack and Bobby. Dudley was a detective. He had worked for the Scotland yard for four years, his children growing up with him being a hero on the front pages. It was good work that paid the bills but caused him to be away many nights, something Eleanor detested.

"Are you coming home tonight?" Her worried question was the typical end of conversation.

"Yes, love, I'll be home in an hour tops." Dudley leaned back in his chair watching the others around him, curling the telephone cord around his chubby finger. "Keep my dinner warm?"

Eleanor sighed. "Of course." He guessed she was smiling and chuckled.

"I just have to finish filling out these horrible forms, and I'll be out of here." He started to lean forward at his desk.

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you too, and don't forget to give Bobby and Jack a kiss for me."

"Of course." The line clicked off and Dudley put the phone back into its slot.

OoOoO

"Have you fought any monsters, Dad?" Jack asked, later that night while jumping on his bed. His sister was tucked away in the room next to his, which was decorated in frilly pink by her grandmother Petunia. "'Cause… 'cause James's dad fought monsters."

Jack nearly jumped fell off the bed.

"Oi, stop that or you are gonna hurt yourself." Dudley picked him up, placing him in the bed. Jack's room was decorated more humbly by Eleanor rather than Nana Petty.

The toddler frowned. "But have you fought any dragons?"

Dudley released a big breathe. "No, and I don't know where that thought came from."

"But James said-"

"James has a bit of an imagination, Jack. Your Uncle Harry is a normal Joe like me, in fact he's a detective too."

Dudley didn't like lying to his children. In fact, if he had the choice, he would tell them all about magic. Even though he started out untrusting of it, he had come to appreciate the fact that it existed and could help the world. Dudley, however, didn't have that choice as his cousin made clear: it wouldn't be in his children's best interest to know about magic.

"Really?" Jack was watching him trying to see if he was lying.

Dudley nodded solemnly. "I don't get to see him much because he works on a special part of the force-"

"Where he fights dragons." Jack's eyes were wide and hopeful.

The older, blond man shook his head. "Where he catches bad guys, and puts them in prison."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Does that mean that you don't fight dragons." Dudley nodded. "And that James is a big fat liar." Dudley nodded and grinned. "Great!" Jack smiled wide.

"Good night, squirt." Dudley stood and turned off the light.

"Dad," Jack said hesitantly into the darkness. "If you did fight any dragons, you would tell me right?"

"Of course."


End file.
